"Why"

Popular questions from all over the world

From India, the google.co.in domain...



Let's do these one at a time, shall we...

1. Fame, fortune, pretty girls who like money, big cars, silk bathrobes, heated bathroom tiles, Poodles and pugs, Italian business suits, licence to flaunt a holier-than-thou attitude! Why wouldn't anyone want an MBA?
2. We aren't, stop flattering yourself.
3. You probably shouldn't. I'd just take your money and make you feel bad about yourself.
4. Aw, self pity! (or self-loathing? Oh wait, that's at number 5)
5. Aw, self loathing! We aren't ugly. You may be, but there are a lot of very beautiful people out there.
6. Do we really want to go there? Why analyse? Just be glad there are as many breasts in the world as there are people. Hurrah for breasts!
7. We are, aren't we? heh. It's a little weird actually, we seem to love to throw money around at things that aren't really deserving of it. Like over priced dinners at fancy restaurants, outrageously expensive movie tickets (not to mention other cinema related expenses. Popcorn for 100 Rupees? bleh), and yet we don't hesitate to haggle with the poor old vegetable lady down the street over a couple of rupees.
8. Not too sure about this one. I think it all starts with either peer pressure or the 'cool' tag that comes free with the little cancer sticks. Anyway, here's a fun thought. Have you ever thought about second-hand smoke? It's not just something that's passed on between active and passive smokers. It's particles of smoke that have travelled their way through another person's insides - nose, mouth, lungs, slimy, icky parts, and are now making their way through yours. (Non-smokers, make 'ugh' noises about here, smokers please feel free to go 'hah, it's like we're kissing!')
9. Same reason we're obsessed with foreigners, isn't it?
Saw a blonde, busty young firang 'lady' working at a bar yesterday. Getting a hell of a lot more attention than any of the other females in the vicinity. (Although, this might've had something to do with the fact that she really seemed to like bending low. Often. For lengthy periods of time. Sigh. Oh, blondie, won't you be mine!.)
10. Because life is so bloody depressing and there is nothing to live for? (or because you're sleepy?)

And now for the International...The google.com domain!



1. So that bullies at school can twist them and make you do whatever they want...okay, let's not go there.
2. Good god, why the heck do you care? Concentrate on more important things in life like...
3. Green poop! Man, foreigners are weird. It's probably from eating a leafy vegetable for the first time in your life, you animal hater!!!
4. Because they're happy and content with life and want you to know it so you can compare yourself with them and say 'Damn, I wish I was a cat. They have it so easy. I hate my life.' And then hopefully you'll blow your brains out and the cat will purr with (more) contentment and happiness.
5. Because your spouse couldn't get married alone (sorry, had to throw in at least one really terribly poor joke in here. Wouldn't feel right otherwise)
6. To gross you out so you would say 'Oh my god, my poor eyes!' and then hopefully you'll blow your brains out and the dog will meet up with the cat and have a good laugh at your expense and give each other belly rubs later.
7. ... (Damn, I could've stuck the poor joke in here).
8. To get the taste of the poop out of their mouths. (Only if the plan(see answer 6) doesn't work. When it does work, they prefer to use beer and toothpaste instead)
9. Ugh. Bathe, you dirty foreigners! Bathe! Use a bloody bucket instead of showering all the time. There are a few places an overhead shower will not reach!
10. Something bad happened on some friday, who cares?

Oh, here's my favourite!

Just to prove a point...

Classified Advertisement

I am planning to go on a trip to Thailand / Nepal / North East India.
Looking for female company. Anyone interested, please do reply.
Candidates in possession of the following will be given preference :
1. Sense of humour.
2. Large breasts.
3. Working knowledge of English (Not very necessary if point #2 applies).
4. Ability to run away from trouble really quick.
5. Passport.

Just to clarify, you will be expected to pay for yourself throughout the trip.
I will only provide company, clever remarks about fellow travellers' misfortunes, expert advice about life, the occasional bad joke and absolutely no protection from bandits/thugs/hoodlums/haggling salespersons.

Details (when, where, how) are open to discussion as long as everyone agrees with me.
Thank you.

ps : I'm only half joking about the whole thing.
pps : Breast size doesn't really matter. (okay, no, it does a little)
ppps : I don't mind paying for the occasional meal.
pppps : to all my three regular readers - let your friends know.

Why do you women have it so easy!!!

So easy for you to find yourself a boyfriend.
All you have to do is be seen in public alone. A thousand guys will hit on you and you can pick your favourite.
You hardly ever need to pay cover charges to get into clubs or anything.
I've never seen a girl complain about a couples only entry.
It's hot when you check out other women. It's gross if a guy looks at other guys.
Getting a ride home is really easy.
Job interviews are a breeze with the right choice of clothes.
Since we're doing clothes...it's cool if you show off some cleavage, but when we take our fellows out for some air, we're likely to get arrested or injured.
It's so easy to get things when you use your body. Acting jobs, etc. Ever heard of a male casting-couch victim?
You always seem to know more than guys.
You know about the status of the relationship. The guy might be completely clueless about whether you two are a couple or not, but you know exactly what is going on, and you don't mind seeing him suffer while trying to figure it out.
You get to throw tantrums and make other people apologise even though you are wrong.
Only you know if you're going to be having sex later that night. The guy will just pray that he did everything right and hope for the best.
Ladies nights at pubs...need I say more?
Oh wait, I'm saying more...on a non-ladies night, if you're in a small group (less than four) of only females, there is a pretty good chance some guy will come over and ask you if he/his group could 'buy you ladies some drinks'
If you do any 'guy' things, you're awesome and hot and everyone wants to know you.
Things like riding a bike. It's bloody simple, but if a girl does it everyone is all "ooo, look at her go! It's so awesome she can ride a bike" Also applies to playing the guitar, eating loads of food and playing sports. But when a guy does a little crochet to make his bed-covers look nice, he's suddenly gay.

It's all about how society labels things.
We men must break the shackles of this woman-biased hypocritical world we live in!
Come, hold my hand and let us travel wearing pink clothes and remove this wool from over the eyes of all the bigots in the world. Let us be proud of our bodies and our various genitalia. Break out of the closet, break out the fruity cocktails with tiny umbrellas and keep your knitting needles handy so we can stick them into the eyes of anybody who mocks us.

(Drifted off a bit at the end there. Got to do this to confirm my complete heterosexuality...I want beer. Lets play football and bash in some heads afterwards. *Burp*!)

The Dosa

Ah, the wonderful Dosa!
As Indian as the Samosa!
Mostly eaten in the south
stuff it all in your mouth

There are so many
but you can choose any
Utappa, Masala or Rava
all hot, right off the tava
Eat, eat your fill.
Now pay the bill.



ps: Feel free to use with music! Just give credit and donate money for food.

I forget.

You know what the problem with being forgetful is?
If you do, please let me know. I knew it too, but I've forgotten.

So there I am, talking to someone, when I realise I don't remember the person's name.
Now this happens to me a lot more often than you'd think.
I figure my head doesn't have enough free storage to store new names. With all the random thoughts floating around like little white wisps of cloud and this hyper active imagination and...what's the mental equivalent of a vast barren wasteland?
Anyway, you get the picture...
So yeah, there I am, talking to some person, don't remember said person's name...What do I do?
Actually most of the time it doesn't matter. I don't talk very much, so I don't really need to know the other person's name.
But on those rare occasions where I do, I never know how to ask.
It's weird. There's this window - the introduction time window - which closes some 10 minutes into a conversation with a new person.
Now once that window is closed, there's no way you can ask that person directly.
There are several things I've tried : asking a common friend, calling a friend over and hoping they would do their own introductions (this has backfired a few times), checking out the seat-listing (on a train or a conference hall)
None of them work perfectly though.
So after much thought I finally came up with one yesterday.
"So what do your friends call you?"
Oh damn. I just realised it wouldn't work either.
"Why, by my name of course"
"Ah! Can I see some ID?"
heh. Might work yet!

The truth and nothing butt!

Okay, since one of my genius friends (You know who you are.) decided it would be a good idea to tell my parents about this blog, I figure it won't be long before they read all the crap that's on this page.
Therefore...

1. When I added the B and M to 'ARMADA' on the cover of my notebook back in class 8, I honestly did not know what a BarMadam was. (And frankly I'm surprised you made that connection!)
I was doodling around during Social Studies class when I added the B to 'ARMADA' to make 'BARMADA' which sounded terribly funny. Like something an underwear would say if it could talk (bermuda chaddies?). And then I thought to myself "You know what'd make this talking underwear even funnier...If it added an 'M' to the end of that word to make 'BARMADAM'. Then it would have it's own little rhythm to sing later. Barmadam barmadam barmadam." (say it 10 times nonstop).

2. That thing with the little hole burnt into my pants really was a lab experiment gone bad. Parag thought it would be really hilarious if my pants were to catch fire during one of the chemistry lab experiments. So he started flinging lit matches at me. Thankfully pant material isn't very flammable, and I survived that incident without too much psychological or physical damage.
So, No, I did NOT try to smoke a cigarette and then stub it out on my pants!

3. That long list of vases and other fragile things that I broke while running/playing inside the house...well, it's probably right.
You really should've known better though! Don't leave breakable stuff and a slightly mental 10 year old in the same house at the same time!

Jokes gone bad

Knock knock
Who's there?
It's me.
It's me who?
I'm me, goddammit! Open the fucking door. I really gotta pee.


The president of the USA, the Prime Minister of India and the Pakistani premier got together for dinner one night.
They discussed politics and left.


What's the difference between a lawyer and a leech?
A lawyer is human. A leech is a worm.


Interviewer: what is your birth date?
Sardar: 11 October
Interviewer: Which year?
Sardar: 1970


Why did the chicken cross the road?
Oh, fuck you!

Sigh!

Sighin' in the rain?

If only I'd been there!
I'd have smacked Gene Kelly in the face with that big black umbrella of his.

"No more happy refrains out of you! Now wipe that silly smile off your face and get out of the rain before you get struck by lightning."

Entertaining Myself : 1

Random Random Thoughts

When grandpa was 23, he was in Burma. World War II.
Bombs all over the place. Only one thought in everyone's head.
"Must Survive Today! Must. Survive. Today!"
ugh. Overwhelming rush of perspective!

Things my life needs. Do donate if you possess extra. (Also donate a life if possible)
- A Soundtrack.
One of those uplifting sort of instrumental pieces that starts off as soon as the hero starts on this terribly difficult and boring few months where he trains like mad to become super good at whatever the film climax needs.
Oh, and a laugh track. For times like these. (*Hahahahahahahahahahahahahaha sniff*)

I love -
the rain, water flowing down glass.
Walking in puddles.
Dogs. Wet noses.
Fat, juicy sandwiches, stuffing bursting out of the edges.
Rides in the dark. Windows down or Helmets off.
Hair streaming in the wind.
Heights.
Misty mornings.
Quiet.
Night and Fog. (oh, and you too, Alain Resnais)

The world's a beautiful place, no?
*Hahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha*
Oh, shut up, you stupid machine.

Reflection...

A couple of years back, I decided to run through each of the seven deadly sins.
In hindsight, I probably shouldn't have started with 'Sloth'.

Today's Lech.

Took Grampa to the Clinic today for a checkup thing. Regular stuff, nothing to worry about.
Saw lots of army peoples. Always fun to watch army peoples. Especially army peoples socialising.
So while I was lazing about in the waiting room, this young lady, (a really amazingly pretty lady btw!) recognized an old couple who had just walked in. Young lady goes up to them and starts off a conversation:

Young Lady : Good Afternoon Aunty, how're you doing.
Old Lady: Oh, Hi beta. I'm fine, how are you?
YL: Fine aunty, how are you uncle? (looks at Old Gent)
Old Gent: Uh?
YL: Hi Uncle, how are you?
OG: Uh?
YL: Hi Uncle, how are you? (10 points for some awesome patience)
OG: Oh, hello beta. You're looking so beautiful I didn't even recognise you (20000 points for that comeback)
YL: (super cute giggle) (40000 points for not flinching at that questionable compliment and 5000 for that giggle.) (Can you tell I was in love with her already?)

Blah blah for 10 minutes about trivial topics like 'What are you doing here', 'How is so and so', etc. Mostly between YL and OL. OG was looking rather bored at this point.

OG decides to interrupt the boring conversation with: Beta, you've been in my prayers.
YL: That means so much to me, uncle. (1 million points for not saying 'WTF')
YL: Please keep me in your prayers uncle (giggle) (another million for the giggle)

Goodbye's all around.
As soon as the super pretty young lady walks away with a tiny piece of my heart, Old Gent looks at his wife and asks in that special punjabi way "Kaun Thi?". I managed to stifle my laugh behind a magazine.

Great fun, these army people. They're so used to conversations that would make a normal person go "Seriously, what the hell is wrong with you!".
Most of them love talking, many come off as obnoxious prats, but are actually just really, really nice people who are a little loud.

For instance, this one guy who had just given his ID card to the person behind the counter realised that the print was too small. Counter person was struggling with the details, so this guy pulls out a very cool little card shaped thing with a magnifying lens in it. He gives it to the counter guy and says he's donating it to the clinic. Mighty nice of him and all.
But then he goes and says 'It costs 20 grand, but that doesn't matter'. Counter guy promptly shoves it back and says he can't accept it. Nice but loud guy says 'No, it's fine. I'm earning in lakhs anyway, it doesn't make a difference'.
Oh, Come on!!! Was that really necessary?
I don't really know how to judge that. On one hand, he's being really nice and truly altruistic.
On the other, he's announcing to everyone that he's being really nice and truly altruistic.

At the end of the day though, the clinic has something that'll help them, and considering the average age of the counter people there, I'm sure they wouldn't remember how they got the lens a week from now!
So good job, Mr Nice but slightly Loud Guy,
Good job, old couple for yet another successfully navigated conversation.
Goodbye, beautiful young lady. I do hope we meet sometime. In the meanwhile, If you could just lose a bit of weight, you'd be doing me and the entire community of lechers across the country a huge favour.
I miss you already.

Been there, Dead now, What next?

It's always been everyone's second favourite question, you know. Right after 'Why do I exist'.
I feel sorry for it sometimes, but really, it's got to understand. It's the last thing people should want to think about. I'm surprised it's so often asked.
So what does happens when you die? Everyone's thought about it. I used to, when I was younger. Had a whole lot of theories too. I never really thought about heaven and hell. I hadn't even heard of the concept until I started reading books.
Indian society is pretty cool that way. Children aren't frightened into being good. Imagine putting the fear of hell in a child. Tell them that if they're bad they'll go to hell when they die.
Hell - a terrible, hot, lawless land where you're pushed around and tortured for no reason at all.
That would never work on us Indian kids. We'd just turn around and say 'Hey, that sounds like here and now'.

Anyway, the various theories...

There was the 'Parallel Universe Theory' (I'd say multiverse, but then I'd go on a crazy DC comics buying spree again) where you are the centre of your universe and nothing bad can ever happen to you.
Then the 'Dream Theory', where as soon as you die, you wake up from this intricate dream which slips away within the next two minutes while you struggle to hold on to it.
And then the slightly nihilistic belief that everything just stops when you die.
Heaven..? Well, heaven always seemed like a really funny concept. You reward a few people with fuzzy white clouds and hovering angels dressed up in long, sexless white robes and playing tiny golden harps for eternity? I'd hate that. I need action. Give me electric guitars with the distortion cranked up, give me my black clothes and surround me with women of loose morals and low alcohol tolerances.

Oh well, here's to the old man across the street who shot at me with an air gun last year because he was drunk till next sunday thought I was a terrorist taking my terrorist dog for a walk.
Here's to that wonderfully mental maths teacher from school who taught us virtually nothing that nothing comes easy. Not even nothing.
Here's hoping you had a good time when you were around and so did the people around you.

Here's hoping there isn't an afterlife.

Book Review - The not so little book of boredom relief.

In this brilliant compilation of over 2000 methods of relieving boredom, author Gitmiout O'Here has put together some of the finest idle time busting ideas from all across the world.
From the Ancient Australian 'Sit in a Kangaroo pouch and hunt koala bears with a boomerang made out of ancient beer bottle crowns' technique to the 'Play real life frogger in traffic' technique from exotic India. Here's an excerpt.

"So there you are, stuck at home with nothing to do. Again.
Another weekend, just like the last one. Don't be so glum! There's always something to do.
All you've got to do is a little research about your neighbourhood. As long as you aren't living on that deserted island that everyone seems to love so much, you will probably find something fun to do.

For example, say there's been something on the news about a couple of religious groups fighting. There's your opportunity! It doesn't matter if the fighting is in a different country and between religions that you've never heard of before. If there's nothing worth watching on the telly, you'll probably find a lot of like minded people near you. So go and gather up these people and start rioting! There are few things more exhilarating than hanging out with a frenzied mob and throwing stones, sticks and the occasional Molotov cocktail at other mobs and the police.
The adrenaline that rushes through your veins during this activity is the best indication of you being alive!!! (just make sure the other mob doesn't have any of them Molotov cocktails. Sticks and stones may break your bones, but fire is going to burn you.)"

This book is already a bestseller in more than 20 countries, and is astonishingly popular in Punjab, India.
Buy this book at www.killboredomwiththisfantasticbook.com for just $25. And you'll never be bored again.
(Comes with a 2-year money-back guarantee*)

*Yeah, right! Get a life you moron!

I Love You 2

Hey.
I had a great time last night.
Thanks so much for spending the evening with me.
It's not often I get to be seen with the most beautiful girl in the city.
No, really. I don't know if I told you enough times. You're stunningly beautiful.
I have a confession to make. I wanted to wait until tonight to tell you, but I can't wait.
I think I'm falling in love with you.
Though I'm sure you've heard that a lot.
haha, I thought so.
I feel so good when I'm around you. It's like you understand everything I say and you know exactly what I've been through. I've never felt so close to anyone ever. It's magical really.
And then when you speak to me, I just lose myself in those beautiful black eyes of yours. It's like I'm staring into two mesmerizing reflections of everything that is right in the world.
Oh yeah, I love those nights we've spent together.
All those long conversations we've had. About life, philosophy, love, friendship and beyond.
Yeah, the universe and everything. All that.
It's amazing how alive I feel when I'm with you. You know what I mean?
Yeah, just like that. Especially when we finally realise it's dawn and the first sun beams sneak past the curtains and we're just lying there waiting for sleep to catch up with us. It's like we're part of a little secret and no one will ever know what it is.
Okay, I admit it. I'm in love with you. I've fallen for you. Hard.
Really? You love me too?
No way...
Really?
I mean...that can't be. I knew you liked me, but I never...
Wow, when did this happen?
Just now? Oh, come on.
I sound upset? Surprised maybe.
Well, to be honest I never expected this.
Yeah, you were always this thing of beauty, this perfect girl against whom I can compare anyone in the world, and no one would ever come close. You are amazingly intelligent, you are beautiful. Oh so beautiful...the sort of beauty weird old poems are written about. You are...perfection...unattainable perfection.
That's what I mean. You are the sort of girl I'd expect to see with some ungrateful prick, who has no idea how lucky he is.
Thanks? What...?No, that wasn't meant to be a compliment. I'm trying to think here.
I don't know about this now. I never thought I'd hear you say "I love you too".
I just don't get it. There's something wrong here.
Oh, is there something wrong with you?
Come on, lets hear it...There couldn't be too many reasons a brilliant, beautiful girl like you would settle for a complete tool like me.
So, what is it?
No I'm not kidding. I'm dead serious here.
Stop laughing. I'm not fooling around. What's wrong with you then?
Do you have a police record?
Do you murder poor lonesome guys who are infatuated with you and take all their money?
No? Well then, have you always been a girl? Did you ever have a wee-wee? Huh? Is that it?
Hello? Hello?
Are you there?
Damn phone line. I almost had her. Dammit.
I'll get you, bitch. I'll get you if it's the last thing I do. Just you wait.
*redials*

Look, a piece of Crap!

Okay, since I had promised to depress everyone with some old poems(for lack of a better and uncensored word)...Here is one.
A couple of quick warnings though.
- Vogon poetry, for people familiar with the Vogons from Vogsphere, was until now described as "the third worst poetry in the universe".
- I am in no way responsible for any mishaps, sudden cases of chronic depression or maniacal laughter that may arise from reading the following...actually, I don't mind being responsible for the maniacal laughter, but let's keep it down okay, people are trying to sleep.
Enough yakking. Here's one called...

Found

Life's a sad song
with no time for fun,
where there is too much to do
and none of which is done.

The space is never enough,
the light is too dark.
However hard you try,
your shot is off the mark

The tunnel is long and dark
with seemingly no end
but as you walk along,
you discover a bend.

Suddenly there is light
where dark lived before.
You move faster now
towards the open door.

Finally you burst through
into the burning light
where knowledge kills ignorance
like the sun kills the night.

With a path in mind
you forge steadily ahead
with things to do in life
before you end up dead.

~


There's a footnote here. Apparently it took me exactly two minutes to write this thing.

The last paragraph makes me smile. I wonder what was going through my head.

Let's Note! (That's Not - Vote in one catchy two word phrase!)

Election fever grips the world's Greatest Democracy!!
So?
How has it affected me? Well, for one, politics is suddenly the only thing people want to talk about. And since I play the role of listener in most conversations, I now know who the ruling party is, why the roads haven't been repaired in the last five years, and why liquor is so damn expensive nowadays.
Also, I've been getting messages on my alarm clock. I have this alarm clock that I could use as a phone if I ever needed one, but I have never needed to. Anyway, I now have messages from a 100 different parties or candidates or something, and none of them make much sense. My favourite is the one that goes something like "No money? No job? No work?..." I don't remember the rest, but it was hilarious. Oh, yesterday I even got a phone call. A recorded message of course, but it felt so good to pick up the little vibrating thing and listen to a tinny voice coming out of the little speaker.

Anyway, I am no believer in the sort of democracy we have. Personally, I'd be really happy to see new forms of rule. Maybe something like Enlightened Absolutism or something. And since we're such a large country, we could have a despot(enlightened, of course) per small area and a monarch as a figurehead?
Oh, who cares. Time to move on from the little dreams of little people, on to the topic of discussion.

Six reasons why you really shouldn't vote :
1. You get little black ink marks on your finger that just won't get rubbed off. (Unless you use a matchstick dipped in kerosene (or water) )
2. You spend time travelling to and from the voting parlour(Is it really called that?).
3. You spend money and petrol and all those terribly environment-unfriendly things that are associated with above acts of spending money and petrol and time.
4. You can't vote even if you wanted to. A week back, I was given, by the government, this amazing voter ID card with someone else's photo on it, when I didn't even apply for it. And half the people I know who have applied, out of some sudden, inexplicable sense of patriotism and love for the country, haven't received their ID's yet. (And the election is tomorrow apparently. Spend your holiday at home. Really!)
5. If you really love your country, you won't vote. 'Why?', you ask...well, if the entire country doesn't vote, someone somewhere with some power will finally realise something is wrong, and maybe we'll have to replace democracy with something else that might work. Couldn't get much worse anyway, why not give it a shot?
6. The person elected isn't really the best candidate around. Though his biryani cook and toddy producers are likely to be the best in the state.

Let this be the start of a revolution.
Don't vote 2009! Or Dote 2009! (more catchy two word phrases).
As inventor and overseer of this great project or revolution, I shall have absolute power when the revolution comes. I shall make history! The first revolution against a democratic government ever! And I will be the supreme leader for life!(or until I get bored and decide to travel a little (which, knowing me, will be within a couple of days))
Be wary of what you think and say from today, because the first people against the wall will be those who report this post as "objectionable content" and write silly comments.

Three things I'm exceptionally good at :

1. Exaggerating.

No! Not like everyone else!

No! No! No!
I'm sorry about the previous post. It's troubling you know, being a schizophrenic. The good me doesn't know what evil me is up to.
Apparently two days ago he was on this very blog writing terribly depressing philosophical posts and doing what he calls "rabble rousing". That lousy bastard!!

Okay, I'm a little embarrassed about that post. The thing is I have a great job but with all the grass is greener on the other side shit that happens to all of us, I sometimes think there's better things to be done. But for now, fuck it.

When I started writing on this blog, I thought I'd write random, punny, hopefully humorous posts. And would stay away from deep, philosophical, insightful posts like I've seen on so many blogs, because quite frankly, they're a waste of time. Everyone thinks. Thinking is bad for you. Why make other people think too?

Anyway, to make up for any mental harassment and/or strain on your poor peas, I shall soon post some super secret poems from...yes, Me!. Not now me though. A long long time ago me. Back from the school days me. Was rummaging through my cupboard looking for some clean clothes when I came across this little book in which I wrote all sorts of crap essays and poems.
Hopefully you'll laugh (with or at, doesn't matter really) and I'll feel so much better.

Just like everyone else.

Dammit! One of these philosophical moods again.
I just feel like I have so much to say, but I don't think I have the words to.
Okay, let me just jump into it and see where it goes.

I'm sick and tired of seeing people around me living their mundane lives and complaining about them all the time. It's painful. Yes, I know I'm doing the same. We all are.

You sit in class and think about all the wonderful things you could be doing with your time.
You sit at office and work and work and when a tiny sliver of free time comes your way, you start thinking. You think of how crappy your life is, how sad you are, living like this.

There's so many things you could be doing. It's mind-boggling, the number of things, the number of experiences out there waiting for you.
But you just sit and live the same day over and over and over and you just get sicker and sicker and you don't know what you're thinking sometimes. Five days a week are all the same, you do the same things, your work, your books, your studies. You think the same thoughts, you speak to the same people about the same things. Your opinions don't change. Each day for a span of a few years is almost the same.
And you live your life not realising how long it's been happening, not knowing how much longer it's going to be happening to you. Then some day you'll find you have so many new responsibilities and now you start counting from the year of your birth to know how old you are. You find you can't do it any more. Your youth is past. All those dreams, all unfulfilled. All those places you wanted to see. All the travelling, all the games, all the love you might have experienced. It's all over and there's no way you're going to get the time back. The time you could've used to do what you wanted.
There'll be a point sometime when you realise that over the past many years, you've never accomplished anything you wanted to. Never done anything you had dreamt of doing.

People don't think of all the possibilities there are. There's this and there's that you can do, and you won't even think about the other things. You just keep doing things everyday, hoping that eventually someday you'll find the time and the money and energy and the lack of responsibilities to actually do what you want to.

I've no clue what's going to happen to me. I hope I break out and do something. But will I?
There's that fear you know...that fear of screwing things up. Losing your job, Having nothing to do, Having no one to love, Losing your money, your home, your comfort. You hold back from the fear of doing things society doesn't want you to do. From the responsibilities thrust upon you by family, friends, society.
Push back. Break away. Do your thing. Don't care, don't worry and see how it goes.

What I want to do with my life : A Retrospective.

10 Year old me :
I want to fly planes. I'm going to join the AirForce when I grow up! I'll soar high up in the vast blue sky like an eagle. Alone, all alone, in my beautiful mig-21, leaving behind me a white steak of jet vapour cutting across the sunset that school kids will see. And they will all wish they could be up here someday, living the life of a hero.
Miles below me I see fields of gold and beautiful blue lakes that look like little droplets of dew early in the morning, sunbeams shining off the surface. Far below my wings live thousands of people. Normal people, living their normal lives, living each day as it comes, not knowing the exuberance of flight. Not knowing the power that comes with every moment you spend in the air. Not knowing that I have, attached to the underside of my wings, missiles capable of razing their entire normal town with all their normal lives to dust! Fire one, Fire two. Die! Die! Haha! Now they know my power! Never will they forget me! I am the scourge of all evil. You fight against my beloved country, you die, Punks!
Ah, the power that comes with flying! Yeah, that's what I'm going to do. I am going to fly jets for the AirForce!

12 Year old me :
How do you become an astronaut?

Early High School me :
I don't care what I do with my life, I just want to own a BMW.
(Looking back, this was probably when my brain peaked. I was really smart back then. After that it's all just gone downhill)

End of High School me :
Okay, what the fuck is going on? I have no idea what I'm supposed to do.

Early Days of College me :
Seriously, what the fuck!?

College me (2) aka Doe-eyed me - Ah, when we were young. And stupid (also spelt Idealist.) :
I'm going to do something good. The world is fucked up and someone has to do something about it. I don't know how, but it doesn't matter. I'm smart, I'm young, I've got time on my side and I will figure something out. I know I will.

College me (3) - ah, when we were young. And stupid. And a little greedy. :
How will I change the world if I have nothing to do it with?
I'm going to need money, power and a fancy car. There's no way I can do anything without a fancy car. So this is the plan. I land a big job with a big fat salary, I become rich and powerful and then I'll save the world. The world is fucked up and someone has to do something about it. I now know how I'm going to go about it, and that's good.

College me (4) - The reality seeps through :
People are disgusting. Just look at all the news. People don't deserve good things. Just look at all the shit that is happening. There's no way I can change all that. I...I'm not sure. I don't know. Lets see. I really hope I can do something.

College me (5) - And then the doubt comes creeping in:
I've been so stupid. How is it going to matter what I do? I'm just one person. And even if I do manage to do some good, what then? Who cares? I need to grow up. It's too early to think of things like this. I'll know what I want to do with my life when I'm older and more mature.

College me (6) aka Cynical me :
Screw everyone else. All these bloody do-gooders are just fakers looking to make a quick buck. Goddamn manipulative bastards. I'm going to do what's good for me. Fuck the world. I don't care anymore.

College me (7) aka Pessimistic me :
It doesn't matter. It's not like I have a choice anyway. What's going to happen will happen and it's probably going to be crap. Sigh.

College me (8) aka The Real me (or so I thought) :
Everything sucks! I don't care about the world. I'm going to travel. I'm going to hitchhike across the country. I'll work my way through life. I'm going to visit all the places I can and I'm going to live there for as long as I can. I'll travel. I'll work as a waiter in the cities, I'll manage some labour in the towns, and I'll write letters or teach or something in the villages. I'm going to experience life the way nobody does. None of this damn sit at an office for 8 hours crap for me. No way. That's not what I want. I'm not going to settle down. I'll jump into random streams, I'll climb random hills and I'll talk to random trees.
This is what I want to do with my life. I'm finally sure. I'm going to be a homeless, penniless, rambling bum.

End of College me : Ah fuck everything! I just want to fly planes! I'm going to join the Airforce!

Present me : I think I'm going to go get some pizza. And a really thick vanilla milkshake with loads of chocolate chips. Yes. That's what I'm going to do. Want to come? Your treat. (or mine. Either way. Whatever.)

I love you!

From the very depths of my heart.
I've never loved anyone half as much as I love you.
You mean the world to me. I'd do anything for you, anything at all.
I'd quit my job, move to any place you want to be. I'd work as a shoe-shiner if I have to. If that's what it takes for you to understand...
You love me too? I knew you did. I'm so happy!
Lets get married. We'd be so good together.
These past three weeks have been wonderful. The best time of my life.
Your parents? Screw them. They won't understand. Neither will mine.
Lets elope. I've always wanted to see Thailand. What do you think?
Plans for later? Well I don't know, I never think about stuff like that.
But since you ask, let me try...
Lets see...we'll settle down in Thailand, maybe open a restaurant?
I know, wouldn't that be great!
Yeah, we could buy a little shack on the beach and make love to the rhythm of the waves.
You cook? Oh, that's great.
Ah, the guitar of course. We could get high everyday. The beach, weed, the guitar, food...and you. My idea of paradise!!!
After that? hmm, I guess we'd do that for 5 years or so, until we start hating each others guts.
And then we could...what do you mean why?
Of course we'll hate each other. Just imagine being with the same person for 5 entire years.
Really? Forever? Wow. No, I don't think I could do that.
Yes, Of course. Yeah, I meant it when I said I love you. I really did.
What? Don't be silly. I meant every word.
Yes, but I don't see us living together for five years and not hating each other.
Well, I don't know about you. But I couldn't. No way.
Oh please don't cry now. What's wrong? We'll have a great three years or so, then we'll be miserable for two years maybe. And then we separate and we'll be happy again.
What don't you understand? It's perfectly simple.
You can't love life unless you have something crappy to compare it with.
Yes, like college. That's good. You loved college because you hated staying at home.
I'm glad you're getting my drift.
Yes, yes! That's exactly what I mean.
What??? You won't marry me??? Why!? I thought you loved me.
Not any more? Really? Damn, that sucks!!
I blew it? Sigh. Yeah, I guess I did.
Oh well.
Yeah, it sure was nice knowing you too.
You too! Have a great life.
hmm? Yeah, sure. I'll give you back your money as soon as I can. I promise.
Bye. Love you.

Four O' Clock News - Silent Night

Hello and Welcome to the 4 O' clock news.
I'm your host BigDaddy Wantsyou.

Lets jump straight into today's big story.
A group of terrorists, led by a large orange chicken, managed to infiltrate the Prime Ministers residence early this morning. The terrorists are holding the Prime Minister and his family hostage.
The police are evaluating the hostage situation, and it seems that there have been no demands by the terrorists so far.
Lets go right over to our correspondent Little Miss Sunshine who is at the scene right now.
Little Miss Sunshine, could you tell us how this started.

Yes Bigdaddy, what's been happening is like this huge orange chicken and some other disgusting monsters who are like really, really big, they just jumped the wall without even telling anyone yaa, and now they like totally have the Prime Minister as their hostage. It's all like so horrible yaa, I could just cry.

Aw, Little Miss Sunshine, don't cry now. You'll ruin your make up.
Anyway, do the police have any ideas as to who these evil terrorists are, and what they might want?

Oh yeah, so I've spoken to the main police dude, and he's like he knows about them but he won't tell me because he hates the news people. He's like so mean yaa. I don't know why these men think they're so important. I hate them. Anyways, I like flirted with him a little and he told me off-record that he thinks the giant orange chicken is from the PETA, who are the brains behind this sick operation.

Hmm, so do the police have a plan of action? I've heard they've called in the NSG and KFC to help take care of this mess.

Yeah, well KFC was obviously contacted first, coz they're like the only people who can scare PETA. And after the NSG's amazing display of skills last year, guess the police had to call them too. Not sure yaa.
Oh My God, there's my friend from school. He doesn't know what a cool job I have yaa. I like have to have to tell him right now yaa. I'll talk to you later okay?

Oh, yes. Thanks for the update, Little Miss...

Yeah, no probs yaa. Have fun.

Well, that was our correspondent Little Miss Sunshine, from the capital.

Ah, we've just received some information from the police.
Apparently there are seven terrorists, the leader being the giant orange chicken.
With him are two pomeranians, one obese cow, one dirty slimy dog, a certain Ms. Pratibha Patil and a certain Mr. Pramod Muthalik.
They are armed to the teeth (dentures in the case of Ms. Patil) with an assortment of Rifles, RPG's, and carving knives.
Oh, I'm sorry, that's only six terrorists, "dirty slimy dog" was used to describe Mr. Pramod Muthalik. My apologies for that mistake.

The police say the terrorists have now released a long list of demands.
They say they will cut one hair from the Prime Minister's head every hour, starting 9 Pm tonight if these demands are not met.
The Bastards! How ruthless can they get?

Here are some of their demands :

- Destroy KFC branches all over the country and put up giant Angelina Jolie statues in their place.
- Pomeranians should be awarded dog status. "We're sick of having to put up with stupid white rat jokes all the time. We're dogs too, just like every other dog. Just because we're small and stupid and yip a lot doesn't mean we aren't."
(There's a lot more of that, three entire pages of yips and similar complaints. Goddamn white rats.)
- Cows want their "Holy" status back. Nowadays, they're just being treated like dirt by everyone. "Weren't the roads made for us to walk and shit on? All the motorists hate us. It's so sad. Us cows don't feel holy anymore!"
- Ms. Patil demands a private jet, just like the American President. She wants it called HairForce granny. She also demands more security and a free treatment pass at a leading skin clinic.
- Mr. Muthalik demands that Feb 14th be done away with. (who the hell is this guy?)
He too asks for free treatment passes from VLCC and other leading skin clinics. He says he just doesn't understand why girls have been ignoring him for 60 years now.

We'll now go over to our anti-terrorism desk, where experts M.S Dhoni and Sania Mirza are waiting for us.

Ah, before that. Here is more breaking news.
Apparently a fight has broken out in the PM's residence.
It seems Mr. Muthalik beat up the two pomeranians because they shared a glass of water, and Ms. Pratibha Patil slapped him when he asked her out. The Obese cow sat on the giant orange chicken by mistake, and the KFC commandos have entered the complex and arrested both the chicken and the cow. Ms. Pratibha Patil has been arrested in a complex and daring manoeuvre by the NSG.
All ends well and our great nation is safe again, thanks to prompt action by the men of the moment, the KFC commandos.

In other news, India won Gold, Silver and Bronze at the pelvic thrust event at the olympics today, in a stunning display of excellence by our young sportstars.
More details on that and other sporting action, right after this short commercial break.

~~~~~~~~~~
Commercial :
KFC says "Thank you India, for three years of patronage." This weekend, visit your nearest KFC outlet for Chicken Surprise at half the price! It's chicken and it's delicious! Life tastes better with KFC and don't you forget that!

___________

for S&V.
You'll forever be my Little Miss Sunshine(s)! <3